“He was the perfect husband, until my 27th birthday. He took me into the storage closet of our tiny apartment. ‘Surprise!’ he said, pulling out a white envelope. I thought it would be a cute card. Inside I found cold, hard cash. Literally hundreds of dollars. ‘I saved it. For your new boobs!’ I felt rage overtake my body.”
“I’d get dressed, only to realize my keys were gone from their usual spot. ‘Babe, I took them by accident,’ he’d tell me. My husband had his cellphone number programmed to receive all the notifications when visitors buzzed our apartment. No one could visit me. At 7 months pregnant, I rushed into my closet. I was in the fetal position cradling my stomach. I whispered to my baby, ‘Mommy will always protect you. We’re going to be okay.’ ‘Get out of there immediately,’ my cousin told me.”
“I did not know Heather existed. In the early 80’s, high school in Southern California presented many opportunities to throw caution to the wind. As a 17-year-old boy, caution was thrown as often as possible. Caution here, caution there, caution was thrown everywhere. On that fateful night, I was enjoying a late dinner with my wife when I got the news.”
“‘I’m glad you’re still with us,’ my surgeon whispered. Tears of gratitude spilled from my eyes. I felt a kiss on my forehead. With less than 90 seconds to spare, my surgeon had saved my life. The defibrillator implanted in my chest was 10 years old, with fractured wires, on the manufacturer’s recall list, and requiring immediate removal. In the middle of this dangerous procedure, a vein suddenly ruptured. My blood pressure plummeted.”
“I have to say ‘see you later’ to my husband soon and my heart is broken. We have been preparing for this awful day. I have my spouse wear a sweatshirt every day for a week before he leaves so when I’m lying in bed bawling, I can at least have his scent to give me a small amount of sanity. Your husband’s 3-day business trip is not a comparison, but I’m still sad to see you without him. Because it does suck and I won’t judge you.”
“I waited until the next morning and then went back to the motel room, terrified, but worked up the guts to knock on the door – no response. I then make my way to the front office and the clerk tells me, ‘Ma’am, room 135 has already checked out.’ I start crying hysterically.”
“‘What’s wrong?’ My heart drops. ‘I can’t see anything anymore!’ I feel sick, but tell myself I have to stay focused and calm for my son because he is neither of those things. He’s now stomping around the house, pounding on the table. It all happened so fast. From fine to not in just a few minutes.”
“The nurse looked right at me. I knew our time was getting short. As she started getting weaker, I picked her up and carried her to bed. The hospice nurse told me to start talking to her, and not stop. ‘I love you. I love you so much. Thank you for being in my life,’ I kept telling her over and over. I wish I said more that evening. I only made 2 calls that night.”
“It’s hard on her. She is a Daddy’s girl through and through. And it’s hard on Daddy too. He came to me last night at 10:30 holding his phone, concern in his eyes. ‘They want to know if I’ll come in tomorrow. I don’t know what to say. Tell me what you think I should do,’ he pleaded. ‘Honey, I can’t make that decision for you,’ I replied.”
“I’ve put a grandfather on a ventilator who couldn’t breathe. I’ve held a newborn with fever while the doctor does a lumbar puncture. I’ve put the final drape over a mother-of-3’s face after she beat breast cancer, but died of the flu. I did all of this knowing full well it was preventable. We had the ability to save those people as a society, and we failed.”
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